


Picture-Perfect Memories

by HardNoctLife



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Boyfriends, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, M/M, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23418571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: One day, Prompto changes Ignis's phone background. Then, he doesn't stop.But Ignis, a tactician by nature, is the master of playing long games.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 32
Kudos: 171





	Picture-Perfect Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SongOfMarbule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/gifts).



> Hadn't written Promnis in a while, but I couldn't think of a better time than for @SongofMarbule's birthday! Hope you enjoy it Callie! 
> 
> It started out purely sweet and fluffy, but then angst just...happened?
> 
> I got inspiration from a random prompt that involved one person changing the person's phone background at random intervals and it evolved from there.
> 
> Of course, I always believe in happy endings.

It started when they were in high school.

Ignis was in the library (of course) studying for the Crownsguard entrance exams. Prompto, on the other hand, was _not_ studying, scrolling through his Insomniagram feed boredly.

“Why do you never post anything, Specs?”

“Hm?”

Ignis wouldn’t look up from where he was reading about the Lucian royal line (as if he didn’t already know everything about it from growing up as Noctis’s retainer.)

“Your Insomniagram.”

Ignis looked up then, blinking.

“My _what_?”

Prompto rolled his eyes, grabbing Ignis’s phone from where it sat on the table. A few clicks later and he had the app pulled up, and he shoved it in front of his boyfriend’s face, forcing him to look at it.

“Ah. That.”

The only post was the one that Prompto had made for him several months ago, the same day he’d downloaded it to the advisor’s phone. It was a picture of Ignis cooking in Noctis’s apartment (a photo that Prompto had taken, of course).

“Life’s more than books, Iggy. You gotta live a little.”

“Mmhmm.”

Prompto could see that he already lost him to the history book and sighed loudly, slumping down in his chair with Ignis’s phone still in his hand.

After a moment of deliberation, he snapped a candid of Ignis while he wasn’t looking, smiling at how the senior student was chewing on the end of his pen.

Laughing silently to himself, he played with the settings on Ignis’s phone before casually sliding it back across the table.

Then, he waited.

It wasn’t until long after they had left the library that Ignis said anything.

“Prompto…”

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, glancing down at his phone with a puzzled expression.

Spinning on his heel, Prompto turned to face him, grinning.

“Yep?”

“Did you change my phone background?”

“Who, me?” Shrugging noncommittally, he continued to walk, laughing as Ignis complained behind him.

“That’s an entirely unflattering picture. You could have at least warned me you were taking it.”

Amid the boy’s grumbling, Prompto sing-songed as he skipped ahead. “Guess you’ll wanna take it off your Insomniagram then too, huh?”

“ _What?!”_

* * *

The game evolved over time, as most do.

Ignis wasn’t as tech-savvy as his boyfriend, but he wasn’t an idiot, either. It only took a few more perfectly timed phone thefts for him to catch on to what Prompto was up to.

The ass-shot-turned-home-screen was the final straw. (“ _Prompto, honestly!” “BAHAHAHA! You should have seen your face!”_ )

Prompto had to work harder from then on to take Ignis’s phone from him. The advisor stopped leaving it on the table between them when they were hanging out, usually tucking it safely away in his jacket or pants pocket.

The one time it got dislodged during a particularly steamy make out session had been to his detriment, as Ignis had woken to a picture of him asleep, hair askew and mouth open, a line of drool down his chin.

“Prompto Argentum, I swear to the Six,” he had groaned as Prompto giggled in the bed beside him.

Cue _second_ angrier make out session, which was played to Prompto’s benefit.

_Score!_

“Did you plan that all along?” Ignis had asked in amazement.

“Looks like my strategy worked!”

“And they say _I’m_ the master tactician.”

The advisor would never admit that he was impressed. Prompto knew all the right buttons to push (for him, anyway). 

Truth be told, Ignis assumed Prompto would grow out of his strange obsession with embarrassing him via candid snapshots as time went on, but the weird hobby continued in earnest, even after Prompto graduated high school.

“Have you considered spy work?” Ignis dead-panned as he stared at the picture of him in the shower that Prompto had taken without his knowledge. Luckily, all the naughty bits were tastefully blurred by a cloud of steam in the foreground.

“When you make it work, it stops being fun,” Prompto had joked from where he laid sprawled on the couch. Predictably, he was scrolling through Insomniagram.

With a slow exhale, Ignis went about changing his phone screen back to its neutral background, a picture of Insomnia’s impressive city skyline at night.

“Still love me?” Prompto called hopefully.

Smiling wryly, Ignis could only shake his head. “Yes, always.”

* * *

When they left Insomnia together with Noctis and Gladio under King Regis’s orders, Prompto got a lot of pictures of Ignis driving. Opportunities for embarrassing photos were endless on the road, and he soon had an entire photo album on his cell dedicated to their game.

There was one of the advisor sipping Ebony, and another of him mid-yawn with windswept hair.

At camp, Prompto snapped a photo of Ignis sipping something Noctis had bought from the Coernix station when they stopped for gas (“some awful concoction of piss water and sugar, no doubt,” Ignis had bemoaned).

His look of disgust? _Priceless_.

Somehow, Prompto managed to capture the moment at Wiz’s chocobo post where Ignis’s mount had bucked him off unexpectedly, spooked by an animal that darted through the bushes by its feet. The blond had almost dropped his phone because he was laughing so hard.

Eventually, Ignis got tired of having to keep a close eye on his cell and let Prompto snatch it without protest, foolishly thinking if he no longer experienced the ‘thrill of the chase’ he’d finally stop.

(He didn’t.)

If anything, it only increased the frequency with which Prompto updated Ignis’s background, and when the advisor woke up in the morning, the first thing he’d do was check it to see what new photo Prompto had managed to snap of him.

Ignis’s head, seeming to float in space above a patch of bushes.

Ignis performing a backflip, pole arm in hand. (“Mid-battle, Prompto?” “Listen, a photographer’s gotta be willing to do whatever they can to get the _perfect_ shot. Besides, you guys had it handled!”)

Ignis with black monster goop splattered all over the front of his shirt. _Gross_.

Ignis biting into a piece of fruit, its juice dripping from his lips and down his fingers. (“Somewhat erotic, this one.” “Sure is, huh?” There was an eyebrow wiggle for emphasis.)

He never let on that he actually started to look forward to the daily updates, although he was certain Prompto had pieced it together. They were small bright spots in his day, taking his mind off of the burden of making sure Noctis was safe and on track to fulfill his duty.

Prompto made sure he always had a reason to smile.

* * *

Then, Altissia happened.

And the pictures stopped.

_Everything_ stopped.

* * *

It wasn’t until several years after the darkness fell that Prompto was reminded of the game he and Ignis used to play. By then, he had nearly forgotten all about it.

There were bigger things to worry about, after all. Things like daemons running rampant, finding power sources to keep Lestallum running, and protecting those who had survived since Noctis’s disappearance.

Not dying was also pretty high on the priority list, too.

Sure, he still saw Ignis and Gladio. They were all in the Glaive now, but it wasn’t the same.

Noctis, the glue that held them together, was gone.

Dealing with the world falling apart is hard enough, but when external darkness is internalized, well. It’s damn near impossible, Prompto realized.

So, Prompto kept to himself. It was especially easy to avoid Ignis, because, well… wasn’t it _obvious_?

The day they (literally) ran into each other after years of dancing in and out of each other’s orbit, was in a bar of all places.

He’d like to blame it on the fact that he was drunk that he didn’t notice the person standing behind him. When they crashed into one another, they both fell.

Glass shattered. Furniture overturned. There was a clatter as Prompto’s cell phone slipped out of his pocket.

“Shit—sorry! Are you alright, man?”

He hadn’t expected it to be Ignis who sat up across from him on the floor, hands searching for his visor and finding shards of a broken bottle instead. The tactician winced, and Prompto’s shock turned to concern.

“Don’t move!” Prompto urged, grabbing Ignis’s hand instinctively.

He half expected Ignis to jerk away, but he didn’t.

“My apologies,” he murmured.

“It’s okay, it was my fault for not looking. Hold still, alright? I’ll take care of this.”

Prompto’s instructions left no room for disagreement, so Ignis remained still as people began to clean up the mess around him. Every so often, the blond would glance over at him nervously, half-forgetting that Ignis couldn’t actually _see_ him looking.

Once things were safe again, Prompto took Ignis gently by the arm and helped guide him out of the bar and into the fresh air, the darkness strangely intimate as it cocooned around them.

“I don’t mind walking you home,” Prompto offered, then quickly amended: “If you want, that is.”

“I think I can manage. No need to go out of your way,” Ignis reassured him. It was meant to be a gentle refusal, but it hurt all the same, and Prompto quieted, studying the man’s face longingly.

“If you’re sure, Iggy.”

“Certainly. Thank you for your help, Prompto.”

“Sure. Anytime,” he chirped, more light-heartedly than he actually felt.

With that, he watched Ignis wander off alone, disappearing into the never-ending night.

* * *

Prompto recognized his mistake as soon as he returned to his tiny Lestallum apartment when he reached into his pocket and his phone was nowhere to be found.

 _Shit, must have lost it at the bar_ , he thought.

It was still early, even if the sky didn’t reflect it, so as much as he hated to go back out, he left without ever kicking off his shoes. When he went back though, no one had turned in a cellphone, and even after searching high and low, there was no sign of it. That left just one other possibility.

Ignis had accidentally taken it in the scuffle, probably mistaking it for his own.

Even though he was dreading more inevitably awkward interactions with his former boyfriend, Prompto headed straight to where he knew Ignis lived, something he hadn’t forgotten even having visited only a handful of times.

The apartment was slightly more upscale than what Prompto was comfortable with, but it had also been professionally altered for Ignis’s unique needs as a blind man. Not that the tactician was one to be coddled, of course, but it made life easier having everything voice activated.

Prompto stood outside his door for a few minutes deliberating before he finally knocked.

“Iggy? It’s me.” He spoke softer than he would have normally, but Ignis answered right away, almost as if he’d been expecting him.

“Come in.”

When Prompto did, he was met by the smell of food cooking, and his mouth instantly watered. It had been ages since he’d eaten a meal Ignis had prepared, and he wished he could just sit down at the table and invite himself to stay over.

But he reminded himself that was all in the past now.

“Long time no see,” Ignis commented, the joke lost on Prompto as he observed the man walk through the kitchen effortlessly to stir whatever was on the stove. No one watching the former advisor would have been able to notice at first glance that he couldn’t see what he was doing.

Prompto loved watching him work—always had—and something pulled tight in his chest as he watched him now. He coughed in an attempt to dispel the feeling, but if anything, it only made it worse.

“Yeah, um, sorry to bother you again, but I think you might have my phone?”

“Ah, yes. I realized after we parted ways that I somehow ended up with two. It’s on my bedside table. Would you be a dear and go get it for me?”

 _I’d do anything you asked of me,_ Prompto wanted to say, but instead he moved wordlessly out of the kitchen and down the hall to Ignis’s bedroom.

He found the phone immediately and grabbed it, but spent another moment looking around out of curiosity. The room was neat and well-kept, but with no extra frills—quintessentially Ignis. It made Prompto smile, albeit sadly.

By the time he wandered back out to where Ignis was still preparing dinner, his heart felt heavier than before. He didn’t want to leave, but he also knew he couldn’t stay.

“Thanks Iggy. See ya around.”

He nearly slapped a hand over his mouth. The irony wasn’t lost on him this time. _Gods Prompto, you’re such a dumbass._

“Indeed,” Ignis answered dryly, choosing not to correct him.

Thoroughly mortified now, Prompto rushed out the door.

He made sure he was around the corner and out of sight before he whipped out his phone to check for any missed calls or messages, an expletive dying on his lips as he stared at the screen.

His background had previously been a picture he’d taken of a chocobo, a reminder of better, happier times, but what he was looking at most definitely wasn’t that.

Eyes widening in disbelief, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, not caring as people passed to either side of him. 

Still gripping his cellphone tightly, Prompto ran back towards Ignis’s apartment, thundering up the stairs. He threw the door open without bothering to knock, gasping for breath.

Ignis turned, gaze falling on Prompto without needing to.

“When— _how_ did you—?”

He looked at it again, thinking maybe he had imagined it, but no, there it was.

A selfie of him asleep with Ignis next to him, nuzzled together on an early morning in a motel room, obviously before they had arrived in Altissia.

“How?” Prompto repeated again, mouth suddenly unable to form any other words. That same tight feeling in his chest returned with a vengeance, and it spread to his throat until it pricked at his eyes, hot tears forming.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Ignis said at first, lips twitching up at the edges.

Prompto laughed, but it turned into a sob halfway through, and his breath hitched, causing Ignis’s face to crease with worry.

“I apologize—did I overstep?”

It was just like him to worry about Prompto despite everything that had happened, and the blond felt his knees go weak. Unable to stand, he crumpled in the doorway, body racking with sobs and the suppressed emotion he’d been holding back for years.

Ignis was at his side in an instant, a hand reaching tentatively to press between Prompto’s shoulder blades.

“Prompto, what’s wrong? Please—”

“You—you don’t need to—apologize,” Prompto hiccupped, furiously wiping at his tears. “It’s—it’s perfect.” He laughed again, this time a true laugh, and he saw Ignis relax slightly, chest heaving in relief.

“It was the only picture I had saved from…well, before. I had planned on using it sooner, but the time never presented itself.”

 _Until now_.

“You really _are_ the best, you know that?” He was starting to tear up again, but this time, Ignis reached out to run a thumb over his cheek, taking a bead of moisture along with it.

Out of habit, or maybe nostalgia, Prompto covered Ignis’s hand with his own and squeezed, holding it tight.

“I love you,” Ignis murmured, and Prompto’s world came to abrupt halt, everything seeming to tilt on its axis.

“…what?” He didn’t dare to breathe or blink, lest the dream end.

But time didn’t slow down. It stayed its steady course.

Ignis smiled shyly—apologetically.

“I never stopped. I am sorry it took me this long to—”

Prompto was on his feet in an instant, strength returning in a surge of energy, and he flung his arms around Ignis, knocking the man slightly off balance. They bumped into the wall as he dug his head into Ignis’s chest.

Surprised, the blind man brought his arms up to rest around Prompto’s waist, holding him.

“I love you too.”

It was a muffled confession, but it made Ignis’s heart soar.

There was so much he wanted to say. So much lost time to make up for, but ultimately, he settled for something practical.

“…then, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Prompto snorted, pulling back to grin up at the question. He knew that Ignis would hear the expression in his voice.

“Dude, forget dinner. I’m gonna stay forever!” When Ignis chuckled, he added for clarification: “But yes, of course I’ll stay for dinner.”

The kiss they shared after that was sweet, chaste, even. A far cry from what Prompto wanted to do in the moment. But Prompto knew better than most what it meant to have perfect timing.

Ignis had taught him that.


End file.
